


Panibugho

by vindicatedtruth (behindtintedglass)



Category: Encantadia
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 08:45:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7838203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/behindtintedglass/pseuds/vindicatedtruth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danaya is self-aware enough to acknowledge and admit that she has always had trouble controlling her emotions, but whenever it happens, she always recognises what they are and the reasons behind them.</p>
<p>She doesn’t recognise <i>this</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Panibugho

 

 

“ _Iri.”_

Her raven hair is blown out of her face at the powerful slash her arnis sticks make in the air as she counts out her strikes.  Practicing her swordsmanship has always calmed her – particularly when she’s _this_ worked up.

It’s not as if Danaya isn’t used to being overshadowed.  Being the youngest of the four sisters, the attention of both the kingdom _and_ their mother, the Queen, is usually bestowed on her last.  She doesn’t particularly mind; she loves her sisters dearly (yes, even Pirena, no matter how much she wants to strangle her _Ashte_ more than half the time), and the strength of her affection for them is rivalled only by the fierce protectiveness she has for Lireo, her beloved kingdom, her _home._

So why in Emre’s name is she so affected by _this_?

“ _Due.”_

It’s not as if she has any legitimate reason to _dislike_ Alira Naswen.  Danaya knows that she at least owes part of their victories so far to the lovely and skilled Sapirian; Alira has been a veteran of war long before Danaya is even born, and she has exceptional experience in the battlefield that Danaya has heard in the legendary stories that have been passed down – mostly from Aquil, she remembers, and scowls.

Alira and Aquil have an entire _history_ together, which is why they synchronise so _perfectly_  in the way they fight together, guarding each other’s backs and protecting each other, and _that_ –

That infuriates Danaya like nothing else.

“ _Kaskil!”_

Her shoulder trembles from the strength of her strike, but she ignores the pain that reverberates up her arm.  She narrows her eyes and breathes heavily through her nose as she forces herself to calm down, recognising the tremendous energy coursing through her body, powered by the Gemstone of Earth she is keeping within the core of her being.  She resumes her stance and tries to force back the power she can feel rising to the tips of her fingers, the strength of it surprising her.

Danaya is self-aware enough to acknowledge and admit that she has always had trouble controlling her emotions, but whenever it happens, she always recognises what they are and the reasons behind them.

She doesn’t recognise _this_.

“ _Sire!”_

She has no reason to feel a creeping bitterness crawling through her chest whenever she thinks of the way Alira flashes a small, demure smile at Aquil, or how Aquil returns it with one of his own; Alira is so exceptionally sweet and subservient that it is absolutely impossible to _not_ love her.

And yet… that is precisely what’s making Danaya so… _angry_.

“ _Anim!”_

It is not mere annoyance and defiance, the way she feels whenever her _Ashte_ Pirena makes her feel so _lacking_.  Nor is it molten rage, the way the greed and vengeance of King Hagorn and his foul, hateful Hathors ignite in her because of how they have ravaged her beautiful kingdom of Lireo.  It is not even the sting of insecurity, the way it settles in her skin every time she’s overshadowed by her _Ashte_ Amihan once more, because she _loves_ her sister depite it.

No… this is something else.

“ _ASNI!”_

A harsh clang echoes in the air as wood meets metal.

She whirls around, and the unexplainable _anger_ rises to her throat as she recognises who blocked her strike.  “… Oh,” she says bitterly.  “It’s _you.”_

_“Mahal na Sang’gre,”_  Aquil says by way of greeting as he merely inclines his head, used to Danaya’s irascible temper by now.  The diwata’s scowl merely deepens.

“What are you doing here?” she snaps as she turns away from him.  “I thought you were still training with that–” _pashnea_ , her mind helpfully supplies, and she bites back a grin before continuing, “–Sapirian woman.”

She can actually _feel_ the way Aquil is raising an eyebrow at her from behind her back.  “If you’re talking about Alira Naswen, I don’t train with her.  She doesn’t need training anyway.”

It’s not supposed to affect her, but it _does._ The tightness in her chest suddenly makes it very hard for her to breathe.  “I can see why you trust her so much,” she says; she means for it to sound scathing, so she’s _horrified_ when the words come out as a whisper instead.

She senses Aquil stepping closer, and she very determinedly refuses to look his way.  “I do,” he says slowly.  “She is an asset to the army.  Her skill is unparalleled.”

If that’s supposed to make her feel better, it doesn’t; she feels so infinitely _worse._ “No wonder you’re so keen on protecting her,” she bites out.

_I can never hope to measure up,_ she adds quietly in her mind, and suddenly she’s that child all over again, Aquil’s casual reprimand forever imprinted in her heart:

‘ _I pity your future husband.’_

She repositions herself into a fighting stance as something hot and fierce bursts in her chest, and damn everything to Balaak, why is she suddenly fighting the very strong urge to _cry_?

“I need her,” Aquil says, and that is _it_ ; Danaya _screams_.

“ _ISE!!!”_

Her weapon is nearly knocked out of her hands as Aquil swiftly steps into her path and blocks her strike; Danaya shouts her utter frustration as she pushes him back.  She is a _Sang’gre_ , damn it, and yet she _still_ can’t match Aquil’s instinctive skill with the sword, almost second nature to him with how it is borne out of millennia of fighting endless wars.

_No matter how much I try to prove myself to you,_ Danaya thinks in despair, _I’m never good enough for you._

“Danaya,” Aquil suddenly says, the softness of his tone almost as equally shocking as the way he suddenly drops the title and simply calls her _name_.  “Don’t overexert yourself like this.”

Something in the almost _tender_ way he is looking at her then makes her suddenly want to drop her weapons and run into his arms; she blinks away the overwhelmingly confusing _feeling_ and instead pulls back as she straightens.

“How _gallant_ of you to be looking out for my welfare now, Head Soldier,” she says mock sweetly, “when you were so busy ensuring that _she_ won’t die out there.”

A heavy silence follows her declaration, and _something_ seems to shift in the air as a light seems to suddenly shine in Aquil’s eyes – and his expression inexplicably _gentles._

Seized by an unfathomable _terror_ , and feeling so suddenly, helplessly _vulnerable_ in front of him, Danaya swiftly turns away from Aquil–

–only to have him seize her by the weapon she holds by hooking his own sword through it and _pulling her back to him._

Startled, Danaya loses her footing and quickly moves to regain her balance – and finds herself inches away from that annoyingly handsome face, and looking straight into those infuriatingly enchanting eyes.

… _Bathala help me,_ Danaya breathes.

“I need her,” Aquil says quietly, “to protect you when I can’t.”

Danaya blatantly _stares_ , her mouth falling open in equal parts surprise and confusion even as he calmly holds her gaze, because _that doesn’t make sense. “_ You do realise,” she tells him dubiously, “that she will only do so because _you_ asked it of her, and not because she actually _wants_ to protect me.”

Aquil merely tilts his head, conceding her point, but refuses to unhook his weapon from her arnis when she starts to move away.  “That doesn’t take away the fact,” he says, the corners of his mouth curving and lifting, “that it is _you_ I want to protect.”

That indecipherable smile is _irritating_ her, so she uses the exact move Aquil himself has taught her to disengage herself from him, the scraping sound of metal against wood filling the air once more.  “I don’t need your protection,” she tells him blithely, even as she feels _something_ in her chest warming at the thought of his apparent desire to keep her safe.

“Of course you don’t, _Mahal na Sang’gre_ ,” Aquil says softly, and _why_ does he have to look so _sad_ about it?  “And yet you have it anyway.”

Frustrated, Danaya wants to throw her sticks at his head with the way this stupid Lirean soldier is confusing the Balaak out of her.  “May I remind you, Aquil, that it is your duty to protect Queen Amihan, not _me.”_

That mysterious smile merely spreads to encompass his entire features as it reaches the light in his eyes, and _why_ does Danaya feel so strangely… _hot,_  all of a sudden?

“Amihan,” he says lowly as he steps closer, and Danaya’s eyes narrow at the lack of honorific, “is not my Queen.”

He’s standing so close–so much closer than what is deemed _proper_ between them and their respective stations–and Danaya finds herself freezing as his palm gently cradles her cheek.

His eyes caress her more keenly than his touch.

“… _You_ are.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> "Panibugho" means "jealousy" in Tagalog / Filipino.


End file.
